DuoMax

[i][COLOR=Navy]Azrael reached out, taking another soul by the hand, than turning upwards to guide them to the Hall of Judgement. Another day as the Angel of Death. Well, not the [b]only[/b] Angel of Death, but the head of group of angels that preformed the same duties. It's not like he could be everywhere in the world at the same time. He dropped the soul off in the Hall of Judgement with a coforting smile and a whispered "Good luck" before turning to head back to Earth. Before he could move, though, he felt a small breeze carress his neck. A messenger angel had arrived. He turned, bowing. "Rumsiel. Nice to see you again. How can I help you?" "Hello Azrael. I have some important news. You are wanted by the Holies of Holies." [b]The Lord wants to see me?[/b] he thought as he winged his way towards God's sanctum. [b]I wander what for...[/b] He landed spryly on his feet, sweeping his robe around him and steping forward to kneel infron of God. "You wanted to see me, Lord?" He was filled with an amazing sense of completeness and happiness. He was in the prescense of God! "[b]YES, MY SON. THE FALLEN ANGEL REOAN HAS ESCAPED FROM THE PIT. YOU ARE TO ASSIST THE ZODIAC AND OTHERS IN DEFEATING HER.[/b]" "Yes my Lord. But what of my other duties?" "[b]THEY WILL BE TAKEN CARE OF. DO NOT WORRY[/b]" "Yes, Lord. I shall go." Azrael bowed, than turned and launched himself in the air. Time to go to Earth. [/COLOR][/i]

Arthur yawned as he crouched in front of his computer, typing away at yet another school assignment. It was late, and he had to finish this paper for tomorrow. "That's what you get for procastinating, you idiot..." he muttered, naing out another sentence. He yawned again, and minimised the paper, bringing up Firefox instead. He checked hsi email, and browsed a couple of message boards, bfore turning back to his paper. "Alright time to finish this." As he began to type the first sentence, there wasa crash, and the lights went out, only the flickering light of his cimputer screen was left. "What the...? Damn power outage...." As he said this, his sreen began to glow a strange white light. "Huh? Now what's happening?" There was a flash and Arthur was gone. *** Arthur felt nautious as he saw spinning colours, wondering if he was dreaming. He couldn't see anyhting but the swirling colors. "Oh man...I feel sick..." He thought he was going to throw up, when the swirling came to a stop and he found himself in a cave. As he looked around, he noticed 2 other kids bodie in the cave "Hey? What's going on he...." he groaned softly and slipped into slumber as Jijimon put him to sleep.

[b]Name:[/b] Arthur Benson [b]Age:[/b]14 [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Descroption:[/b] a slim, shy young teenager with (dyed) light blue hair, and eyes to match. He is usually dressed ina simple pair of khaki cargo pants, a black [url=http://www.dorja.com/~daveg/images/tenninjas300.gif]"I am Ten Ninjas" t-shirt[/url](

Of course! The power azrael bears is a great responsibility and isn't to be taken lightly. Plus, it's usually only used at the end of someone's life.

[b]Name:[/b] Azrael [b]Height:[/b]6'0" [b]Weight:[/b] 176 lbs. [b]Age:[/b] 22 (Around since creation I suppose) [b]Appearance: [/b] [url=http://home.att.net/~hoo17/Law/azrael.jpg]Azrael[/url] [b]Race:[/b] Angel [b]Position:[/b] Loyal to God. He is the Angel fo Death and holds sway over life and death. Working against God would not benefit him. [b]Power:[/b] The ability to kill mortals with a touch(He is the angel of Death!). [b]Weapon:[/b] A flaming sword. [b]Bio:[/b]Azrael was created by the Almighty for a purpose. His purpose is to bring death to the world. He does not relish his job, but he does not hate it either. He sees it as an unpleasent duty that must be preformed to keep the population of those pesky mortals down. He has a rather condescending attitude towards mortals. He sees them as fragile beings, not capable of surviving the climates and situations on their planet. He enjoys talking to the souls of those he brings to the afterlife, though. He drinks up the information they give him, and has gained quite a bit of knowledge in his stint as the Angel of Death. His worst experience in this job was the Firt and Second World Wars. All those deaths, al the destruction. He almost went against the Word and quit, but managed to contain himself. Above all else, he loves God. In the few times he has been lucky enough to be in the prescence of the Lord, it was an ecstatic experience. Now, he fights for the Holy God in the war that is beginning. Fortuantely, a new Angel of Death is scheduled to replace him soon, so that frees him to fight for hsi beloved Lord.

Pieter sighed, brushing his blond locks away from his forehead. he hadn't known Li that well, hadn't even really talked to her. But the funeral hit him, hard. "Another dead [i]komaraden[/i]" he muttered. He was still dressed in hsi ceremonial clothes, but a half empty bottle of [i]schnapps[/i] dangled from his right hand. the soldier sat on hsi bed, in his quarters, occasionally taking a swig from the bottle. "God..." he groaned, "Why? Why do so many die? I failed them...all of them...I should haveben able to do somethign about this. Saved them somehow. Oh...God...: He took another swig from the bottle and fell back on the bed, the bottle falling to the floor, shattering and the remaining liquor spreading slowly into a puddle on the floor. Mercifully, the German fell into slumber. OOC:OH, THE ANGST! Short post, yes. But I am back!

I was hoping to en dup in WW2 at some point. Adn at the end of the RP< do the characters get returned to their respective timelines? because if they do< I have a little bit of an interestign epilouge involving Maya and Pieter =)

Pieter walked slowly behind Sarek as they followed Li and Protosis. His eyes were constantly watching the windows and alleys, almost as if he expected an attack to come from anywhere. He cradled his beloved rifle close to him, although he was now dressed in the clothes of the time, he had refused to leave his rifle this time. He would not be kept from his best weapon this time around. As they passed an alley, Pieter caught sight of a sinsiter looking man, watching them walk by, obviously marking them as outsiders. Pieter shivered, clutching his rifle tighter.

Pieter screamed as the mace burned hsi eyes and face, raising his eyes to claw at his eyes. He began to yell in German, terrified. "[i]Mein Gott! Die Russen sind Gasen wir! OH-Gott! Jeder, Durchlauf! DURCHLAUF! SCHNELL! ERHALTEN SIE WEG![/i]" He struggled off of Sutaru's shoulders and dropped heavily to the ground, fumbling inside his vest to pull out the pistol he had concealed there. He fumbled wiht it, flicking off the saftey and pointing it towards Sutaru's blurred form. "[i]Ich töte Sie, Sie russischer bastard.[/i]"

Pieter grunted as he was thrown into a small, uncomfortable looking cell, much battered and bruised. The sheriff, along with several of the large man's friends sttod outside of it, glaring down at the German. "And you'll stay there 'till I say you come out. Damn troublemaker!" Pieter rose and walked to the bars as the sheriff and the other men walked out. He rubbed the back of his head ruefully. At least he had created a distraction.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Pieter began, "I think that you should go find them, while I create a disrtaction to draw the attention of Protoisis. I will...what do you say? Make some trouble, [i]ja[/i]?" He grinned broadly, downed the glass of whiskey in front of him, and stood, swaying as if drunk. He turned back towards the groups, shooing them towards the door as he winked "Get going." He stumbled forward, bumpng into one of the larger men at the bar. "Hey! Watch where you're going!" Pieter frowned and responed in a slurred voice "Why don't you watch where [b]you're[/b] going?" "Are you looking for trouble, runt?" theman stood from the stool he was sitting on, rsing to a rather impressive height of 6' 4", towering over the 5'10" Pieter. Pieter grinned "Yes." He drew his arm back and brought it forward, conecting solidly with the man's nose with a sickening crunch. The man stumbled against the bar in shock, holding his bleeding nose. "You broke my node, you litle shit." "So I did, [i]Ameikaner schwinen..[/i]" Pieter brought his knee up, htting the man between the legs, than grabbing his head as he doubled over, and slamming it into the bartop. The man groaned and slumped backwards. pieter turned, just as the man's friends gang-rushed him.

Pieter sighed as he caught up to Sarek. He couldn't match the odd man's speed, but could probably give hima bit of a challnge in the stamina department. He shook hsi head as he looked at the shaking man "You did not have to scare him so much, Sarek." "I do what want. Now be silent." Pieter placed a hand on Sarek's shoulder as the larger man turned away, back towards the terrified native. "[i]Nein[/i]. I think not. Who put you in charge? I am of the highest military rank here, and so I should be in charge. You do not know the slightest thing about being subtle, I think. And since there are people around, we must be subtle. Which means lose the swords,[i] dumkopff[/i]." He turned to the man, bracing himself for Sarek's reply. "Now, [i]Mein Herr,[/i] please be so kind as to escort myself and my companions to the town."

Pieter stepped out of his changing room. He was dressed, quite comfortably he thought, in a pair of brown pants, a calico, long sleeved shirt, and black suspenders. Over this he wore a navy blue vest. He had attatched hsi pocket watch to this, according to the fashion. He wore a dark brown duster, that swirled around his booted feet, which made him a bit uncomforatble. He was afraid he would trip over the damn thing. Settled on his waist was a gun belt, carrying a single revolver. It was comforting to have a firearm, but it was heavier than he was used to, and he had secretly stowed his own P38 into his vest. Slung across his chest was a bandolier of rifle rounds, and he carried a Winchester Repeater over own shoulder. It carried more rounds than his own rifle, but probably wasn't as accurate or powerful. Settled on his head was a black sluch hat, which he adjusted now as he stepped back into the breifing room. "Let's get going, [i]Ja[/i]?"

Pieter walked into the briefing room, a bratwurst and cheese sandwhich in one hand, a bottle of schnapps in the other. He was dissheveled looking and was clearly a bit tipsy. "What is it now? God damn [i]Amerikaner[/i] won't let a man drink in peace..." He stumbled in to a seat and sat down, placing the bottle in front of him and staring at it intently, paying no attention to the looks of disapproval on Cael and David's faces. "This bottle is full of amazing schnapps, and yet, i can't seem to get drunk. It amazes me. " He took a large bite of the half-eaten sandwich and looked at David. "What kind of mission are we going on now?" "You're going to the American West, circa 1877. And give me that bottle." "[i]Nein![/i] It's my bottle! It's my drink. Get your own, [i]Amerikaner[/i]." He took a pull from the bottle and held it away from David's outstretched hand, glaring at him as if daring the man to try and take it.

[COLOR=Navy]"Very well, [i]Demon[/i]! you shall have your 'One on One.' And you shall feel the Wrath of the Almighty." Julian snarled, his anger rising. He stepped back from the Demon, touching his hand to the Crucifix around his neck and mumbling a latin phrase. A bright light burst around Julian, streaming from his eyes, nose and mouth. The light flashed blindingly, concealing him from view, than he rose on white feathered wings, an aura of light surrounding him as he clutched the sword in his fist. [b][SIZE=2]"I am the Sword an the Voice of the One True God, and as the Almighty's Sword, it is my duty to punish those found wanting. and you, Imric, Demonspawn, are very wanting indeed."[/SIZE][/b] His voice thundered, filling the air with the sweetest sound that Imric had ever heard. He raised his sword, wings flapping as he rushed forward to the attack. It felt good to be in his true form, doing what his duty was. Destroying the Unclean.[/COLOR] Let's get it on!

[COLOR=Navy] Julian's eyes burned holes into the back of Imric's head. How he longed to take his true form, draw his sword, and put the disgusting creatures out of their miserable existence. But of course, he couldn't do that. Not yet. [i]Besides,[/i] he thought, glancing over to Kyle, [i]I'd rather destroy him first. It has been too long since we last met. Traitor and Fallen One, you [b]will[/b] die, as the Sword of the Almighty it is my duty to rid existence of you and your foul ilk[/i] Naturally he had noticed the attentions Alex gave to Iris. He would have to speak to him about that. There was no time for things like that now. Not on this day, Today was of the utmost importance. He could feel it. He sighed and turned back to face the teacher, mentally recounting the event sthe human spoke of. [i]The Battle of Trafalgar. So much work for the Angel of Death that day. I am fortunate not to have that responsibility.[/i] He sighed and idly jotted down notes every once and a wile, still watching the Demons.[/COLOR]

Pieter grinned. They were all back, and safe. He looked after Maya, a smile on his lips. She really did remind him of his younger sister. [i]I wonder how she's doing. They have to have gotten the news that I am missing by now.[i] He sat down in a nearby chair, and pulled out a few of his photographs, looking over the pictures of his mother, father, and sister. he missed them all, and now he was farther away from them than ever before. He sighed and leaned back. What was he doing here? Why had he agreed to this? he stood and walked out of the Infirmiray, heading for the Galley.

[COLOR=Navy]Julian knelt in front of the school, ignoring the tares and taunts thrown his way as he crossed himself and began to pray. [i]Lord, why must the Demons attack the Earth so? Why don't You just destroy them all?[/i] A voice responded,niether male nor female, a voice only he could hear. The voice was lightly reproving, full of love, and Julian did not know what he would do if he could not hear it. [b]Do you question your Lord and Creator, Julian? [/b] [i]No Lord. I apologise for my insolence[/i] [b]There is no need to apologise, My child. It is in your nature to question these things. But you are the Guardian and my Sword. It is your duty to stop them. Now go. You'll be late for class.[/b] The last remark was said with a hint of humor. And the Lord left. Julian sighd as he felt the Pesence leave, crossed himself, and stood. He walked into the school, nodding at Alex as he entered. "Good morning, Alexander." "I told you, call me Alex!" It was an on going joke between them. Alex hated being called Alexander, and Julian loved to call him that. It was the way things went, at least on Earth. Julian looked over Alex, than frowned. "Have you been using the Earth to travel again?" "My car is broken." "You shouldn't. The two broke company as the bell rang, heading for their seperate classes.[/COLOR]

Imric's actions in the hall had caused Julian some embarrasment. [i]Well, the whole school knows I'm gay now. Ah Hell! Who cares?[/i] He slipped an arm around Imric 's waist as they reached the Computer Lab, giving him a small hug before opening the door and walking inside. He grabbed a chair at the back of the room and logged onto the computer, smiling happily.

Julian couldn't stop grinning as he walked to his nect glass with Imric. The entire affair in English was causing his heart to do back-flips, if that was physically possible. He cautiously intertwined hid fingers with Imric's as they walked, still grinning. "So, um, you wanna get lunch or something?"

[COLOR=Navy][b]Name:[/b] Julian Saraneth Tiransos [b]Age:[/b] 16 [b]Gender:[/b]Male [b]Appearance:[/b] A tall boy with with blonde hair and blue eyes, he stands at about 5'11" and weighs 164 lbs. He is in good shape, but doesn't have the body of a body builder. His hair falls to the base of his neck, and he keeps it well trimmed. He has a pleasent face and his eyes always seem to be watching you, giving him an intense stare. He is usualy dressed in black slacks, black wife beater, and a white dress shirt, unbuttoned. He wears a small golden crucifix around his neck. [b]Angel Appearance:[/b] Julian becomes wreathed in a bright light, and white feathered angelic wings burst from his back. His skin becomes pale, and his eyes are a pure, glowing blue. His hair becomes a pure shining white and his voice becomes like that of a chorus, booming and powerful. He now stands at about 6'9" He is dressed in shining steel plate armor. Over this is a white tabard, belted at the waist where his sword hangs. On the tabard is a blue Teutonic Cross. When in this form, he seems to radiate a protective aura. [b]Weapon:[/b] A Bastard sword, which becomes wreathed in a white light when he is in his Angelic form. [b]Element:[/b] Light[/COLOR] I conferred with Dragoon, and we have decide to make our characters the anti-thesis of each other ^_^

Punk is dead. Long live Classic Rock :D Seriously, Punk is just a bunch of angry people yelling about how much they hate the establishment and never doing anything about it. As much you people like to think that you're rebels, you're not. Punk exists to sell CDs. Nothing more, nothing less. The artists write music and sell it because they want money, not so you can overthrow the government or what ever it is the advocate. Stop crying about how "punk is dead" and go listen to some real music. Maybe something has a melody, or an actual tune instead of jarring guitar chords.

[COLOR=Navy]Pieter through himself and Cael to the side as a figure rushed at them. Cursing, he drew ut hsi pistol, knowing that his rifle would be clmsy in a close in fight. The figure slashe diwht a sword, slicing Pieter's arm open. He cried out in pain and squeezed the trigger, sending a bullet at the unknown assailant who neatly lept aside. Pieter gasped "That's...that's impossible! [i]Gott en Himmel![/i] What is this!" He dragged Canathel towards the nearest cover, setting him down so he was propped up against a tree, watching as Sutaru battled their unknown assailant in a flurry of blades. He handed him the pistol and instructed him in it's use in broken English. "If someone try to attack, you just squeeze the trigger and point it at them, [i]Ja? Gut![/i] He turned back towards the fight, unslinging his rifle and aiming it. He squeezed the trigger and sent a puff of dust up next to the assailants, but the paid him no mind. "Damn!" He cursed, feeling helpless.[/COLOR]

Julian's eyes widened as he felt lips press against his, and got even bigger when he realised it was the blue haired Imric. He sighed softly, closing his eyes and moving his other arm to hold Imric to him for a second, revelingin the short eternity before he broke off hurriedly, hoping no one had noticed them. He continued to look at Imric, a blush rising in his cheeks again. He smiled and whispered softly, just loud enough for Imric to hear. "Wow..." His heart beat quickly as blood rushed through his body. His shy smile turned into a lopsided grin, and he reached out to lay his hand on Imric's

Julian had managed to finagle a seat next to Imric again, and leaned over to him. "That was really brave of you. I couldn't do that." "Thanks," Imric replyed with one of his smiles which he knew very well would cause Julian to melt into a little puddle. "Yeah...um..could I talk to you at lunch or break or something?" "Sure." "Okay." Julian turned back to his scrpt, reading over the part of Mercutio. Ah, Shakespeare! He darly loved the plays, but why couldn't there be [b]gay[/b] version of [i]romeo and Juliet[/i]. He sighed again, eyes wandering towards Imric.